Of Magic and Mutants
by Xanderlike
Summary: Kyle is a sorcerer, not a mutant, with an agenda that has does not include meeting the X-Men. It's funny how plans can change when a beautiful mutant girl falls on you from out of the sky...
1. Chapter 1

Let's get this straight: I'm no hero.

I _don't _wear spandex. I don't go out looking for trouble. I just do my thing.

Of course, since said "thing" is acquiring power I suppose you might say that I _am_ looking for trouble after all.

Once I began my studies, the one thing I had promised myself was that I wasn't going to stick my nose into things that didn't concern me. That was the main reason I had stayed as far away from New York City as I possibly could. (Seriously, have you ever watched the news? It's like you can't cross the street without running into some sort of super battle.)

But the problem with magic is that you can't just get all your research material over the internet. You also can't buy magic items over eBay. (Well you can, but the odds are you're going to get a fake or a cursed item and I rather like not being a toad, thank you.) So when the Lady (of whom more shall be said later) told me that I needed a piece of Uru metal in order for the Spell (of which I shall also speak more of later) to work, I didn't have a lot of choice but to head to New York and visit the small nondescript store that it had taken quite a bit of legwork to discover the existence of.

The proprietor of the store was a tall, thin guy. The shop was freezing—I don't want to think about his power bill—and the curtains were drawn on the windows. "Yes?" he asked.

"Uru," I said.

"Uru?" He blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Uru. The metal. The Asgardian metal that holds enchantment especially well."

"Uru doesn't exist." He drew himself up to his full height.

"Sure it doesn't. And neither do Dark Elves. Especially Dark Elves who are hiding out from their brethren for certain—shall we say?— indiscretions." I smiled at him. "It'd be much simpler for both of us if you just accepted that I know what I'm talking about. But if you insist, I could always break your glamour …"

The Dark Elf shot me a dirty look and immediately jumped over the table and locked the door to the shop. "Who the hell are you, kid?"

"Tell a Dark Elf my name? Yeah, right. And after that I'll go find the Hulk and call him an 80 pound weakling."

He glared at me and made an odd gesture with his right hand, and a sword of ice literally materialized in his hands.

"Flames of the Faltine." I didn't shout it. I did my best to sound bored, actually. Like so many things, magic requires confidence. I said the incantation and gave a bored wave in the direction of the Dark Elf's ice blade.

The Dark Elf howled as the blade was engulfed in green flame. He dropped it and shot me another dirty look. "You go too far, sorcerer."

"I'm not here to fight." Especially when the odds were that I could lose. "You have something I want. Let's make a deal."

He said nothing.

"Look, the sooner we make a deal the sooner I'm out of your hair."

"Fine. Yes. I have some uru." He walked back to his cash register and pulled out a small ornate box. "Direct from Asgard."

I blinked as I looked into the box. "THAT'S your uru?"

"I didn't ask you to come to my shop. You don't like the quality of my goods, then get out."

"It's not the quality—it's the quantity. I've seen bigger toothpicks."

"You think you can get any more uru from someone else, be my guest." The Dark Elf smirked, his lips stretching in a way no human's could. "I suppose you could always head to Avengers Mansion and ask the Thunderer if you could borrow his hammer. I can't imagine he'd say yes, though." And the Dark Elf barked a laugh.

Now it was my time to glare, but there wasn't much else I could do. He had me over a barrel and he knew it. Uru was pretty damn rare—on Earth, at least. Its properties were legendary, though—nearly indestructible, it would enchantment like no other metal in all the Nine Worlds. It was possible that the Spell would work without it— but "possible" carries an element of risk that I didn't want to entertain. "How much?"

"250 thousand."

"Dollars?"

"I wasn't expecting gumballs, kid."

"Do I look like I'm made of money?"

"You're a sorcerer. There should be some kind of way for you to raise that kind of cash." He gave me that too-wide smile again. "Of course you could always try to take it…"

"I _could._"

"Of course, you can't STEAL an item of magic like this—especially if you want it to work in the kind of spell that requires Uru—and have it work. I have to give it to you." He grinned again. "Or you have to kill me."

"That's true." I did my best to look intimidating—but let's be honest. I was about three inches too short and about thirty pounds too heavy to pull it off.

The Dark Elf sighed. "You have power, kid. But you still have your blood innocence. You haven't killed anyone yet—and I don't think you're going to start with me." He closed the box. "You get the cash, come back and we'll talk."

I didn't want to think what the Lady would say to me when I told her what had happened, but I couldn't think of anything else to say but, "I'll be back."

"Sure thing, Arnold."

I slammed the door as I walked out. I was not a happy camper. The Lady would not be happy with me about this, but the Dark Elf was right—I did not want to kill anyone. I wasn't sure I had it in me—but I couldn't imagine being able to earn that kind of cash, even with magic. It's not like opportunities just fall out of the sky …

And then that's when the girl fell out of the sky on top of me.


	2. Chapter 2

"Come on, sugah. Wake up."

"Five more minutes, Mom …"

"Sorry, sugah. Not your momma. Can you open your eyes up for me? Don't know how you lived through that, but it ain't safe to be lollygagging right now."

The voice was definitely _not_ my mother's. My mother didn't sound like Southern Honey deep fried in pure unadulterated sexy. (And thank God for _that!_)

So I opened my eyes. And there was only one thing I could say: "Wow."

She was beautiful. Not real life pretty girl beautiful, but rather like what a super model looks like on film. Except this was in person without a ton of make up or touched up photography—and smudged with dirt and concrete dust. "Thanks, sugah. Ah'm Rogue. You got a name?"

"Kyle." The Lady had drilled into me that I should never give anyone my full name—deception can backfire on a sorcerer so outright lying isn't a good idea, but the more someone knows about you the more they can hurt you. So all I said was, "Kyle."

"Pleased to meet you, Kyle. Ah guess today's mah lucky day. Not every day Ah got knocked out of the sky—thank God Ah landed on a mutant powerful enough to survive the impact."

"Impact? Mutant? What impact?"

She giggled. "Ah love a man with a sense of humor. Take a look, sugah."

We were in a crater.

Granted, it wasn't a _deep_ crater. About four feet deep If that. Still, it _was_ a crater.

The street wasn't deserted, but it wouldn't be long till it was. No one seemed all that anxious to stick around. "Where'd everyone go?"

"You ain't been in New York long have you, sugah?" She ran a hand through her glorious hair. Brown with a white streak. "When someone falls out of the sky here it means all kinds of trouble you wanna avoid if you ain't got supah powahs."

"I ain't got—I mean I don't have any powers." Technically, it was true. A sorcerer manipulates mystical energies to achieve effects. Theoretically, anyone could learn how to do the same—just like anyone could theoretically learn how to play a musical instrument. Theory and reality aren't always on the same page.

"Then how do you explain this?" She pointed at the crater.

"I …ducked?"

She laughed. "Look, sugah. Ah can get you probably had to hide what you were back home and it ain't exactly a good idea to start going all 'mutant and proud' even here, but there ain't too many guys who can survive when a gal falls on him from a few hundred feet in the air. And we ain't got time to play. Something knocked me out of the sky, and there ain't a lot of things that can do that."

"Don't you know what happened?" I was starting to think that now would be a really good time for me to get the hell out of Dodge, but I hadn't yet mastered teleportation and it didn't look like I was going to be able to call a cab anytime soon.

"No. Ah was on my way home when something hit me like a freight train and the next thing Ah know Ah making a pavement sandwich with a Kyle filling." She had the kind of smile that could make a man forget about being smart.

This girl was going to be trouble.

And then I felt something scratch against the wards that the Lady had insisted I cast to protect my mind from mental attack. It had seemed like a waste of time to me back then, but she had been right again …

Which she usually was.

The girl—Rogue winced. "Telepath. Get outta mah head!"

There was a shimmering and a rush of displaced air, and three people stood before us.

One was a thin—way too thin- girl clad in a blood red skintight outfit. She wore a silver helmet on head that was shaped rather like the head of a German Shepherd. The "eyes" were glowing red LED lights.

Her own eyes were blank and as white as snow.

"A Hound," Rogue gasped.

There was a collar around the girl's thin neck. Attached to that collar was a silver chain. Holding the chain was a woman … well, a woman's head on what looked like to be an entire metal body. (There was no way she could have had a body underneath the metal cause it was translucent in places and showed nothing but gears.) The woman's face should have been breathtakingly beautiful but the hate on it made it ugly instead.

The last one was a giant.

The Lady has told me there are creatures huger than the human mind can imagine. Creatures as large as planets … even larger. She had told me and shown me some images, but images are nothing compared to the real thing.

The giant was made of iron.

Yeah, an iron giant, a robot of some kind perhaps. An iron giant who had a helmet that looked like a horse's head.

So, yeah.

An iron horse.

Go figure.

"Who are you people and what did you do to that poor girl?" Rogue reached down and ripped up a piece of concrete with no more difficulty than I'd have picking up a piece of paper.

Strangely enough, that didn't make her any less hot.

"We are the future," Iron Horse said.

"The first shot was just to knock her out of the sky! Let me finish her now!" The Woman-Bot said.

"Not yet, Metalyx. We have need of her abilities. We want her alive. Blythe, howl for us!"

The girl- Blythe?- raised her head and howled like a dog.

Immediately, Rogue dropped the piece of concrete and fell to her knees, covering her ears. She cried out in pain and fell down face first.

I gritted my teeth. The girl's screaming was aggravating-and I couldn't quite see how she could do that without taking a breath- but it wasn't that debilitating to me.

"The boy- why isn't he going under?" Metalyx demanded. "Her cry has worked on every mutant we tested- even the ones with no hearing! How can he possibly be standing?"

In a way, I was glad that Rogue had passed out. At least this way if I wet myself with fear she wouldn't be there to see it.

"That's because I'm not a mutant! Vapors of Valtorr!"

Tendrils of smoke seeped out of the ground and formed a band around the screaming girl's mouth. She immediately stopped screaming and tried to claw them away from her face but of course accomplished nothing.

"Die, mutant!" Metalyx's friend arm- the one that wasn't holding Blythe's leash- shifted and became something that looked disturbingly like a chainsaw.

"Shield of Seraphim!"

A shimmering golden dome formed around Rogue and myself. The bullets from the cyborg's gun pinged against it but did no damage.

The giant's expressionless face stared at me. "You have no place in this battle. You are not a mutant. Give us the girl and we will not harm you. We have no reason to harm you. Give us the girl and we will be on our way."

"I don't think so." My voice was starting to crack with fear. I had never been in a real fight before, and I was running out spells that I knew how to use. The smart thing to do would have been to let them take the girl- and get the hell out of the way.

The Lady would have told me to do it.

But I couldn't.

Not if I wanted to be able to look myself in the mirror.

The iron giant and I stared at each other for a moment.

Rogue groaned and began to stir.

"Blythe, take us away from here."

"Are you afraid?" Metalyx demanded. "We have her!"

"We have nothing, Metalyx. The boy is unknown to us. He may be about to fall over. He may have enough power to snuff our lives out with but a thought. And Rogue is too dangerous to face without Blythe's howl. We go now." That giant head turned back to me. "But I will remember your interference, boy."

I didn't trust myself to speak. I just nodded my head.

Blythe, her mouth still gagged, raised her hands and they disappeared exactly as they had came.

"Wonderful. Not in New York an hour and I've already made enemies. Could things get any worse?"

A strong hand clamped over my mouth. Three sharp metal points suddenly jabbed themselves into my throat. Not far enough to hurt, but far enough for me to know I was bleeding.1

"Hello, bub. Suppose you explain to me exactly why Rogue is lying at your feet ...?"

1


	3. Chapter 3

"You didn't have to hurt him, Logan!"

That Southern Honey again. A fella could get addicted to it.

"I didn't hurt him, darlin'. He fainted."

And Mr. Claws. Of course.

"You didn't have to stick your claws in his throat. I don't think he even knew he was a mutant."

"He is not a mutant." A new voice. Female. High class. Brittle. But with a hint of naughtiness. "Cerbero does not register him as a mutant. He scans just like any other normal human being."

"I have taken a genetic sample and will peruse it at my leisure. In the meantime, our young friend is fine. Wolverine didn't do more than prick him with his admantium claws." I liked this guy. He sounded amused as though he was in on a joke that no one else knew.

"He's not a mutant. He survives ground zero impact with Rogue. And apparently he manages to fight three unknown mutants to a standstill. And none of us have ever heard of him?" Hm. This guy sounded like he had a stick stuck somewhere South of the Border. "You _don't_ know him do you, Wolverine?"

"Never saw him before, Cyke."

"Ah don't know they were mutants, Cyclops." Oh that voice. It was enough to make me keep my eyes closed and feign unconsciousness just to keep hearing it. "They had a Hound—like from Rachel's time. One of them seemed to be a cyborg and another might have been either wearing armor or a robot. Never saw any of them before."

"It wasn't Ahab?" Cyclops—Mr. Stick—asked.

"Ah don't think so."

"Have you tried reading his mind, Emma?"

"Of course, darling." Ms. Brittle again. There was something _possessive_ about the _darling_ comment. It was as though she had reason to stake her claim to Mr. Stick—Cyclops?—and wasn't sure just how strong that claim was. "His mind is very effectively protected. His shielding—I've never encountered anything quite like it."

"I wonder if the Avengers would know who he is?" One thing about Mr. Stick—Cyclops—he wasn't big on letting things go.

"I suppose we could continue conversing about our enigmatic guest further, but it may be more efficacious to simply inquire about his identity directly. I believe he appears to be prevaricating his lack of awareness."

` "What'd you say, sugah?"

"He said I was faking." I opened my eyes and sat up. No point in pretending any longer. Better to give myself away than be found out. "And he's right." I smiled at Rogue. "Hello again. You're always nice to wake up to."

Rogue blushed. ""You say the nicest things, sugah."

I was in some sort of high tech infirmary. It looked like something out of Star Trek. Scanners and sensors and high tech computers winked and blinked and did God knows what. "Nice place you have here."

"We like it." Cyclops leaned against the wall and pushed ruby red glasses back into place. "I'm Cyclops. You've already met Rogue and Wolverine. Emma is our White Queen. And your doctor was—"

"Please, Cyclops. Allow me to make my own introduction." At first glance, I thought it was a talking gorilla. A blue furred talking gorilla. "Greetings, my young friend. I am Henry McCoy. Due to my hirsute complexion, I am more commonly known as the Beast."

"Um, hi." Okay, he freaked me out a little bit. When something that looks like he should be looking at you from the other side of a zoo shows you a fanged grin and offers you a hand to shake that's as big as your head it takes a bit of getting used to. "I'm Kyle." I took the furry hand and gave it a shake.

"Pleased to meet you, Kyle."

I felt something scratch against my mental defenses again. I looked over at the woman called Emma—a tall, pale, blonde woman. "Could you quit that?"

She shrugged. "I simply can't abide a mystery, Kyle."

"There's not really all that much mystery." I hopped off the table. "I'm not a mutant. I'm a sorcerer." There was no point in trying to hide it. They'd figure it out eventually. "I was in New York to pick up some supplies and I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." I grinned at Rogue again. "Or maybe the wrong place at the right time."

She giggled.

Oh man. This girl was definitely trouble for me, but I couldn't stop myself. Flies and honey, man. Flies and honey.

Or is it bees? I can never remember.

"Sorcerer, bub?" Wolverine was short and hairy and his claws weren't out but just looking at him made my neck itch. "You buddies with Stephen Strange?"

"Um, no." That was one guy the Lady had told me to be sure _not_ to meet, and I really had no reason to doubt her. "Never met the guy."

"So … Kyle is it?" Cyclops was probably trying to give me a look, but the glasses totally spoiled it. How can you take a glare seriously from a man who's wearing ruby sunglasses? "Did you know Rogue's attackers?"

"Never saw them before today, either. Apparently it's my day for meeting people." I wasn't sure if I liked Cyclops or not. He seemed Mr. Anal 101 but there was also something fundamentally decent about him.

"So you just happened to be in the right place to play White Knight to Rogue's Damsel in distress, and your mind is protected so our telepath can't confirm or deny your story. That's stretching coincidence."

Calling Cyclops skeptical would be like calling Wolverine short—a total stating of the obvious.

"Yeah, well, I don't know any of you from Adam, Mr. Cyclops. I'm sure as hell not going to let someone I don't know go Googling through my brain just to make you happy."

"Y'all should just leave Kyle alone. He ain't done nothing to us and you're treatin' him worse than you treat Magneto."

It's nice to have at least one person on your side—bonus points when she's a Southern Belle with a voice like that.

Yeah, I know. I'm totally a voice guy. Sue me.

"We know who Magneto is. We know what he wants. We don't know anything about Kyle here—not even his last name." Cyclops looked over at me again. "Would you at least like to share that?"

"Not really." I slipped my green jacket back on. "Look, I don't know if paranoia comes with the mutant gene or you're just an overachiever. Here's what I know—assuming that Mr. Badger over there wasn't present for most of the discussion. The girl on the leash they called Blythe. The girl headed robot was named Metalyx. The giant robot I called Iron Horse—could be his name, could just be a brilliant guess on my part. Apparently they had some way of locating Rogue and knocking her out of the sky and they wanted her for some reason. I don't think they're mutants—the girl probably was, but the others said something about her scream knocking out all mutants so I'm assuming they weren't ones. That's all I know. Now if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if someone would show me the door so I could get out of here. I have something else that I need to be doing."

"Why such a rush, mon ami? I have yet to thank you for looking out for my Rogue, eh?"

"Hello, Remy."

Two words.

Two words and suddenly my Southern Belle went from Ms. Confidence to Ms. Pining after the High School Bad Boy. Her eyes were suddenly filled with something—some incredible combination of immense sadness, love, and a sort of hopeless _longing_ that tore at my heart

Mr. "I'm the Hottest Guy in the Room Even Though I'm Wearing A Magenta Shirt" flashed a grin over at me. "Hello, mon ami. I'm Gambit."

And he didn't say it aloud, but there was a message in his eyes: "And you had best not be making those puppy eyes at Rogue anymore because she's _mine."_

Wonderful.

I spend ten years learning magic only to wind up right back where I was when started: hopelessly infatuated with a girl who only had eyes for a Bad Boy.

I hate my life.


	4. Chapter 4

"So, I'll be going now. Don't hesitate to drop in on me again sometime, Rogue."

Rogue didn't blink. Didn't react. She was still making puppy eyes over at Gambit.

He smirked at me.

So, yeah. Time for me to make leave a tree and leave …

"Can someone show me the door?"

"We could use your help, Kyle." Cyclops gave me a total dead-on serious expression.

"Wait a second? Two seconds ago you were all 'I don't trust you 'cause you won't let my hot mind reading girlfriend x-ray your mind' and now you want me to sign up with you?"

Rogue paused from her mindless Gambit adoration to look over at me. "Y'all think _she's_ hot?"

"My undisputed hotness is not an issue, Rogue." Emma's lips twitched in a smile. "Cyclops, darling, why don't you let me handle this?"

"Emma—"

"Scott, darling, you are an undisputed master tactician, but this is not your area of expertise. It's mine. Trust me."

Wolverine snickered. "This definitely ain't my scene." He glanced over at me. "See you around, kid."

"I doubt it. I'm leaving."

Wolverine looked at me. He looked over at Rogue. He looked back at me. "Yeah."

Cyclops turned to the Beast. "Hank, let's see what you and I can find out about Rogue's attackers. We probably want to beef up our perimeter security. I don't want anyone going out alone until these people are neutralized."

"Of course, mon capitan!" The Beast raised one giant hand to his head in a mock salute. "I am at your service!"

"And Gambit shall take his Rogue out to dinner, no? She will be safe with him."

"Ah'm never safe with you, Remy," she said softly. She looked over at me. "And Kyle? Sugah? If'n you do go, y'all come see me before you leave?"

"Sure, Rogue." I would probably have said the same thing if she'd asked, "And y'all wouldn't mind cutting your arm off for me either, sugah?"

Oh boy. I had it bad.

"Kyle, let's go discuss this upstairs in the business office." Emma slipped her arm through mine as though we were about to head out onto the dance floor and led me out of the infirmary and into an elevator where she took me into an elaborate library.

Books lined the walls. Where there weren't books, there were photos and diplomas. I recognized Cyclops as a teenager standing with four other kids—including a stunning redhead. There was something familiar about the big lug standing beside him in the picture, too …

"The first class of X-Men," Emma said by way of explanation. "Cyclops has been here since the beginning. It's been his entire life. Would you like something to drink?"

"Some water would be fine, actually."

She nodded. "Would you like some ice?"

"Please." I turned and looked at the rest of the pictures. There were a lot of them—and quite a few had little plaques under them indicating a date of death.

"Being an X-Man is not always an easy occupation, Kyle," Emma said, handing me a small glass filled with water and ice. "We have lost many valuable friends and colleagues over the years."

"And this is your recruiting pitch? Join the X-Men and quite possibly die?" I took a sip of my water.

"You wouldn't be an X-Man, Kyle. Just an … associate."

"I see. So it's a mutants only club?"

"I wouldn't say that—some of my best friends are humans." She smiled at me in a way that can only be described as frosty. "Why are you here, Kyle?"

"Didn't we already have that discussion?"

"I mean in New York."

"I needed something. This was the only place I could get it."

"I see." She took a sip of water. "Before I joined the X-Men, I was a member of a less … benign organization. The Hellfire Club. I know quite well that magic exists. You know who Stephen Strange is?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever heard of Baron Mordo?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Baron Mordo was Stephen Strange's greatest rival in the mystic arts. He was not a nice man at all. He also favored green. So when a young sorcerer shows up at my doorsteps with dark hair, green eyes, and a preference for the color green I find myself wondering if he might be related to Baron Mordo."

"I'm sorry. You're suspicious about me because of my hair color and that I'm wearing a green jacket? Maybe paranoria IS a mutant trait after all …"

"You haven't told us why you are here, Kyle. That tends to suggest that you're up to something we might not quite approve of."

"My plans have nothing to do with mutants."

"But you have plans?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"Are you a good man, Kyle?"

The question made me pause.

I could lie to her. I could explain to her how everything I wanted, everything I had planned, was entirely justified. I could tell her my life story …

But in the end, the answer was much simpler than that.

"I used to be."

I took a sip of water and there was quiet for a time.

"What will it cost us for your help, Kyle?"

"A million dollars."

Yeah, I know. The Dark Elf only wanted a quarter million, but it's not like these kinds of chances come along every day …

"This is a school. Do you think we're made of money? One hundred thousand."

"You've got equipment down there Star Trek would envy. 750 thousand."

"And it costs a lot to maintain. Two hundred thousand."

"And think how much you'll save by not having to rebuild it after fighting those X-Terminators. 500 thousand."

"There's more than money here, Kyle. There's Rogue. _She_ could use your help."

"She can take care of herself. I saw her pick up like 500 pounds of concrete like it was a paperweight."

"She's quite a formidable young woman. But then again those … X-Terminators as you called them are quite dangerous." She steepled her fingers. "And you're infatuated with her."

"I just met her."

"I'm more than just a telepath, Kyle. I'm a woman. And a rather beautiful one, if I say so myself. I know when a man is interested in a woman." She gave me a slow smile. "And don't think she hasn't noticed it, either. She's quite flattered."

"I find that doubtful. As soon as Gambit walked into the room I might as well have been invisible."

"Remy and our Rogue have quite the history together, Kyle." Her eyes turned hard. "If not for Rogue's … condition, Gambit might have tired of her and moved on long ago." She shrugged. "Or perhaps he would be happily domesticated. It's hard to say."

"Rogue's condition?"

"Her mutation. Rouge can absorb memories, powers, and abilities with skin to skin contact. Unfortunately, she can't control it. Knowing that a single kiss could put them into a coma tends to dampen most men's ardor. So in spite of her beauty, Rogue has not had that much experience with the opposite sex. Something that Remy is quite aware of, and uses to his advantage."

"I see." I took another sip of water.

"I cannot promise you Rogue's heart, Kyle. However, I think your chances of winning her affections are higher than you might guess. And it would do Gambit no harm to suffer the pangs of jealousy that he has so often caused her to experience." She smiled.

"Doesn't exactly sound like a lot of fun for me, though. Make the guy she wants jealous while knowing she's never going to look at me twice isn't my idea of a good time."

"Faint hearts never won fair maidens, Kyle. If you don't try, how will you ever know?" She paused. "And three hundred thousand. That's my final offer."

"Three hundred thousand in cash."

"In cash." She took the now empty glass from my fingers and gave my hand a squeeze. "Do we have a deal?"

"Three hundred thousand in cash and the X-Men agree to stay out of my business once our deal here is done."

"As long as our interests are not threatened, I have no problem with that." Emma offered me a cold smile. "I would not advise betraying me, Kyle. The X-Men may play nice, but I have some very bad habits left over."

"You're a very scary woman, Emma."

"I can be, Kyle. I can be. Shall we go tell the others you've decided to stay?"

"Sure." And then I could go back to eating my heart out over Rogue …


	5. Chapter 5

"So, how long will it take you to find them?" Cyclops asked me.

"I haven't the faintest idea," I admitted as I sat down at their dinner table. Rogue and Gambit had left on their promised dinner date. Wolverine was out doing God knows what. Henry McCoy, the Beast, was sitting next to me. "I've never tried to find anyone before."

"Don't you have a crystal ball or something? Can't you just magic up their location?"

I nodded over to Emma. "She's a mind reader. Why doesn't she just read their minds?"

Emma took a sip of wine out of a very expensive looking glass. "It's not easy to locate a specific mind that I've never encountered before—especially a non-mutant mind."

"Again with the 'not a mutant' thing. You guys are going to give me a complex or something."

"You must forgive our esteemed leader, Kyle," Henry McCoy interjected. "It is has been a while since we had prolonged conversations with 'you people.'" He made quotation marks when he said "you people" and I decided right then that, hairy blue gorilla guy or not, he was my kinda guy.

"Hank—" Cyclops began. "You're making me sound like a bigot—"

"Yeah, yeah. I know. You're not a bigot. Some of your best friends aren't mutants." I took a drink of my lemonade. "Look, Cyclops—"

"Call me Scott when we're not in uniform, Kyle."

It was a peace offering from a man who wasn't exactly Mr. Personality, so I decided to accept it as such. "All right, Scott. Listen, I understand you guys have been around for a long time. You may even have met other sorcerers—"

"A former member of the New Mutants was a sorceress herself," Cyclops offered. "Illyana Rasputin, codename Magik. Perhaps you heard of her?"

"Because I should know all sorcerers just like you know every mutant?" I fixed him with an amused expression.

He squirmed uncomfortably.

Oh yeah. This was going to be fun.

"All right, Scott. I'll be serious—for once. Yes, I'm a sorcerer, but I'm not the Sorcerer Supreme. You may have met Doctor Strange or people who are in his weight class—who can do things like teleport across the dimensions heal fatal injuries, turn back time—that's not me. I haven't spent 50 years accumulating magical artifacts or spells. I don't have a crystal ball or a scrying lens, and I wouldn't know how to use them if I did have them." I took another sip of lemonade. "That doesn't mean I CAN'T help you—that I CAN'T find them. But it's going to take some work."

"How long?"

"I don't know. I'll get started on that tonight. After dinner." I took another sip of lemonade. "Can I have something stronger?"

"Of course, Wine?" Emma rose from the table.

"I'd rather have some Jack Daniels if you have it."

"You don't strike me as the whisky type, Kyle," Henry McCoy noted.

"I'm not. But needing something and wanting it are two different things."

I knew what I had to do, and I wasn't looking forward to it. I sure as hell wasn't going to do it sober.

Emma Frost said nothing, but I could feel her scratching at my mind again like a curious cat wanting to be let inside.

I gave her a look. "If I want visitors I'll put out a welcome mat."

"Of course, Kyle." She offered me that enigmatic smile.

Scott Summers looked at me. He looked at Emma Frost.

The Beast looked at me.

I shrugged. "I'll take that Jack Daniels now please."

I got a pleasant buzz on before I said good night to the X-Men. It wasn't enough to totally take away my anxiety over what I had in front of me, but at least it wasn't enough to make me throw up.

The Lady wasn't going to be pleased with me.

I set up protective wards around the room they had given me. The room would be effectively soundproofed. No one would be able to get in until I broke the wards or they expired. (Okay, another sorcerer of greater skill would be able to break them but you don't expect me to mention every possibility do you?)

And I took off all my clothes.

(No sense getting blood on them.)

And I sat down on a plastic sheet that I had gotten from sickbay.

I closed my eyes.

(Don't think about the blood. Don't think about it.)

"Lady."

The Lady was not one to engage in casual chats. Sometimes she would appear to me of her own volition, but she usually did not come unless there was reason or I asked—and asking was never a pleasant thing.

There was always a price to be paid for her help, and the price was always the same—blood.

"Lady, your disciple calls to you."

I could feel her presence grow stronger in my mind—an angry, dark presence—like a storm that's about to break.

"Kyle. My Kyle." Her accent wasn't American, but I could never really place it. "I am sorely disappointed in you."

"I grieve to have failed you, my Lady."

"You do not have the Uru. You have let yourself become involved in the affairs of these mutants. They have nothing to do with us. They have nothing to do with my plans."

"Our plans, my Lady." I tried to sound respectful, but I wasn't about to let her mistake me for her lackey. Disciple, yes. Student—without a doubt.

But lackey?

Never.

She was nothing more than a dark haired shadow in my mind—a pair of luminous green eyes was the only feature that she allowed me to see. Even so, I could see she was bowing her head. "_Our _plans."

"I believe that in helping the mutants our plans will be furthered. They will give me the funds I need to procure the Uru."

"You should have killed the Dark Elf."

"I don't do that."

"And now you find yourself needing my aid again." She laughed. "And we both know the price you will pay."

"Yes."

"What is it that you seek of me, my Kyle?"

"I need an Amulet of Seeing, and the knowledge to use it."

"A bold request."

"But necessary."

"This is no easy thing you ask of me, my Kyle. I have such an amulet but it will take considerable energy to send it to you. The knowledge to use it will require even more effort. The price you will pay is quite dear. More than you have paid at one time before. Are you QUITE certain that this is what you wish?"

"If I didn't know better, my Lady, I would almost say that you were concerned."

"I have invested considerable time in your education, Kyle. I would not relish having to start over again." Her voice hardened. "But do not confuse that with affection. I value you only so long as you are useful to me."

"I will remember, my Lady."

"Very well. You shall have your amulet and when you awaken you will have the skill to use it—if you awaken." Her eyes grew very large and her form began to lose its human shape, becoming something that I did not want to look at too closely. "Please try not to die, Kyle. I still have need of you."

Her eyes were very large—but not nearly as large as her teeth.

"Be strong, Kyle. Remember our plans."

I had done that often, over the years. When I had paid the price for the Lady's help, the thought of what I wanted—why I was paying that price—was the only thing that helped me live with the pain.

But not this time.

I did not think of power. I did not think of the plan. I did not think of how I would pay back those who had harmed me.

Not this time.

This time I thought of Rogue.

And that almost—_almost_—made what was to come bearable.

And then the Lady was upon me and I knew nothing but pain.


	6. Chapter 6

I woke up with a mouth as dry as the Sahara, an ache in my gut, a burning in my head, and a silver dollar sized amulet in my hand.

"You had better be worth it," I told the amulet.

And it irised opened, revealing a golden glowing eye that looked back at me without blinking.

"Okay. Maybe it was a fair price."

The air stank of dried blood, but there was none to be seen anywhere.

The Lady had been particularly ravenous.

I sat the amulet down and stumbled over to my clothing and slipped it on … only to discover that my pants were much too big now.

The Lady hadn't just wanted blood this time—she had taken meat.

I stumbled into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror.

"Well, it'll never beat Jenny Craig, but I can't argue about the results."

I was at least 50 pounds thinner—my face was gaunt, but defined. My green eyes seemed even greener than before. The marks of the Lady's teeth on my torso seemed to shine faintly in the mirror but were not visible on my flesh when I looked at it directly.

"I hope I don't have to do that again anytime soon."

I shucked my clothing off and crawled into the shower and stayed there until I felt halfway human again. Once I was done, I put my clothing back on, cinching my belt until my pants wouldn't fall down. I placed the silver amulet on my shirt directly under my chin. It stayed there as though glued to my shirt.

The wards expired when I opened the door.

Rogue was standing in front of me. "Hello, sugah. Thought Ah invite you to breakfast … Kyle! What happened to you?"

"What's the matter? Don't like the new look?" I flashed her a smile.

"It's different, sugah. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I've got something here to help us find your playmates from last night. We'll need to go back to where we last saw them." I shrugged. "Or at least I do. I suppose you might have other plans with Tall, Dark, and Cajuny."

For a moment, those beautiful eyes—green, but a lighter, cleaner green than mine—looked sad. "Not today, sugah. He said something about needing to take care of something."

"Well his loss could be my gain—if you're free."

"Ah'm free. Got nothing else to do today." She slipped her arm through mine. "Ah'm all yours today, sugah."

"Ah, if only I were that lucky." I sighed dramatically.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't go overboard, sugah."

"The word 'self-restraint' is foreign to me."

"Ah can believe that. So how do we do this?"

"Well, we head back to where Wolverine tried to turn me into a pincushion—"

"He didn't try to turn you into a pincushion. He only _threatened_ to turn you into a pincushion."

"That makes me feel _so _much better."

"Trust me, sugah. If Wolvie had wanted you dead, we wouldn't be talkin' right now."

"Wonderful. So you're telling I can trust him because he didn't kill me when he was just annoyed at me?"

"You think that you might do something later to make him _want_ to kill you, sugah?"

I couldn't meet her eyes. "You never know. I don't plan on it, but the world's a funny place sometimes."

"Kyle …"

I didn't want to look at her when she said my name like that. It was dangerous—dangerous to me, dangerous to her. "Rogue, let's just concentrate on business."

She was quiet for a moment. "All right. C'mon. Ah could fly us there but we should probably try to do this low-key. We'll get a car out of the garage."

"Sounds good to me. Can we stop for breakfast? I'm starved."

"Ah can believe it. Are you goin' to tell me just how you managed to lose all that weight?"

"Would you believe a tapeworm? A really _BIG _tapeworm?"

"Ah'm gonna pretend you didn't say that 'cause that'd be awfully disgusting—and more than a little creepy."

"Smart girl."

We stopped at a drive-thru on the way back to the shop. I didn't eat as much as I normally would have—for one thing, I was sitting next to a pretty girl I was trying awfully hard to impress—for another my gut did had been through about three kinds of hell last night and let me know in no uncertain terms that it wasn't going to tolerate much trouble from me today.

"When we're done here, we should take you shopping, Kyle. You could use a new wardrobe to show off that fine new body of yours."

I shrugged. "Probably not worth it. Not like anyone's going to be looking anyway." She started to give me a look. "Eyes on the road, baby doll."

"Ah'm not a baby. Ah'm a real live girl."

"Oh hell yeah. I fully support that statement."

She giggled. "Charmer."

"I have my moments." I paused for a moment. "Emma told me. About your powers, I mean."

"So you know Ah'm a look but don't touch kinda girl, huh?"

"So I've heard. That bites."

"You could say that."

And for the rest of the drive, neither one of us said a word.


	7. Chapter 7

We left the car a couple blocks away. Rogue slipped a hand into one of mine. "Won't they notice that piece of jewelry you're sporting?"

I could feel the warmth of her hand through the flimsy black lace glove she was wearing. "For one thing, you have to know it's there to notice it. For another, I'm walking hand in hand with one of the most beautiful girls in the city. No one is going to notice anything about me while you're here."

She blushed slightly. "You have such a silver tongue, sugah."

"I have my moments." I paused. "So, the gloves? Not exactly a fashion statement, are they?"

"Not entirely, no. Skin to skin contact triggers the transfer. Ah get whatever powers they possess. And their memories."

"_All_ their memories?"

"They tend to fade with the powers. Ah have 'ghost memories' sometimes. Ah'll have dreams." She blushed. "Sometimes very _intimate_ dreams about people Ah've never met."

"Not an easy thing to live with, I'd imagine."

"Ah'd like to say that you get used to it, but Ah'd be lying." She blinked. "Why am Ah telling you mah life story? Ah barely know you."

I chuckled. "It's a gift. All my life people have been telling me things."

"So you're a secret keeper, huh?"

"You could say that."

"Everyone tells you things. Do you ever share, Kyle?" She squeezed my hand gently.

"Generally no one offers. No one asks."

"Ah'm asking."

I turned to look at her again. Damn, she made my heart ache just looking at her. A guy could get lost in her eyes … "About what?"

"About you."

"Can you be more specific?" We were nearly back to the store. Back to where we had met.

"You're not big on the whole sharing thing, are you, Kyle? Maybe Logan and you have more in common than you'd guess."

I laughed. "Yeah. Him and me are two peas in a pod."

"You're doing it again. You're changing the subject."

"Yeah. I do that."

"Ah'm not giving up, Kyle."

I sighed. We had reached the spot. The impact crater was cordoned off. There wasn't much attention being paid to it. "No one seems to particularly care about what happened here."

"It's New York. They're used to it." She touched my cheek with her free gloved hand. "Kyle. Ah want to know you."

"There's not that much to say. I'm just your standard journeyman sorcerer on his first trip to the big city."

"So let's start with that."

"With what?" I glanced over at the shop. It was closed, but still intact. Good. It wouldn't do for me to lose the Uru.

"How did you become a sorcerer?"

"I was sixteen. I found a book. A book of magic. I studied it. A lot."

"You learned all this from _one_ book?"

"No. That was just the start. I've spent ten years learning magic. It's taken a lot of time and sacrifice."

"For what?"

"Hm?"

"You're human, Kyle. You're not a mutant. You stepped into a world of magic—you stepped into mah world. You _chose_ this. Why? What did you want?"

"Power."

"Power? Really? That doesn't sound like you."

"As you said, you barely know me."

"You stood beside me, Kyle. You saved me. Ah've known people who wanted power. Who cared about only power. You aren't like that. Ah don't know if you believe that—if you really _believe_ that, but it's not true."

"Sometimes we can't have what we really want, Rogue. Sometimes we have to be satisfied with what we can have. Power's as good a substitute as anything."

"For what?" She smiled gently. "Or maybe I should ask _who?_"

I started to reply, but then I caught sight of someone out of the corner of my eye.

He wasn't wearing that garish outfit of his for a change. His oddly colored eyes were disguised by sunglasses. He was wearing a stylish shirt and a pair of slacks and flirting with a female jogger who seemed to break out into giggles every other word that she said.

Rogue seemed to be unaware of his presence.

"I'll be right back."

"You spot something?"

"I just need to find a place to go to the little magician's room. I'll be back before you have time to miss me."

"Ah doubt that, sugah. You grow on a girl."

"That kinda makes me sound like mold."

She giggled. "You're silly."

"Oh yeah. That's my middle name."

"Kyle Silly—?" She was obviously waiting for me to finish my name for her but all I said was:

"Close enough. I'll be back in a minute. Soon as I can find a bathroom that is." As I walked away from Rogue I murmured "Mists of Munnipor."

I didn't exactly become invisible, but it was a good enough imitation to serve for my purposes. One of the first things that the Lady had taught me was that you should never waste more energy than you had to because you never knew when you were going to need it.

Unseen but not invisible, I walked over to where Tall, Dark, and Cajuny was flirting with the girl and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hi there. I was lead to believe that you had other plans today, Gambit …"

"You can call me Remy, mon ami." He smiled to the girl. "Remy has to run now, but he will be sure to remember your phone number."

The girl giggled again, shot me a dirty look, and then walked away.

"We aren't friends, Gambit." I wanted that out of the way. I don't know why.

"We aren't enemies either, mon ami." He tilted his sunglasses and favored me a look with his odd eyes. "You have the eye for my Rogue, no?"

"I have the eye for Rogue, yes." I laughed. "This is a strange conversation."

"You came over to initiate it."

"You're following us."

"Yes."

"You have no reason to be jealous." I hated to admit it, but I wasn't stupid. "I'm not her type."

"What makes you think my Rogue has a type?" He chuckled. "A Cajun Thief. A mutant terrorist—two versions of the same man, even. Magnus and I are different as night and day, but each of us had a place in her heart. No reason to think she couldn't find someone else."

"That's not exactly what I expected you to say."

He shrugged. "I love my Rogue. I want her to be happy. We are … complicated." He smiled at me. "Besides, you have only known her for her two days. I don't think I have reason to be worried just yet."

It was … strange.

Gambit was a handsome, charming guy. Put me—even magically thinned me—next to him in any contest and I couldn't imagine _any_ woman choosing me over him for _anything._

But he didn't act like that was the case.

It was strange. And it left me confused.

"So, you are nearly half the man you were last night. Was this to impress my Rogue?"

"Um, no. Just a side effect of some magic I had to work. Believe me, I wouldn't have done it if I had had another choice."

"I see." He looked at me again. "My Rogue, she an innocent girl. She beautiful, but her powers make it hard for her have much luck with men. Do not use that against her, Kyle."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

He laughed. "Then we understand each other, mon ami."

"So are you planning on joining us then?" I glanced over at Rogue who was standing by herself, her arms crossed, nodding politely to a young guy who was trying to chat her up.

"No. I have my own plans today, Kyle. I just wanted to make sure we understood each other, you and I."

"I don't know if _anyone_ understands you, Gambit." At his look, I amended it to, "Remy."

"Remy, he a mystery wrapped in an enigma surrounded by a conundrum. That's why the ladies love him so."

"Well, being good looking helps I'm sure."

He smiled. "Now go back to my Rogue. You have work to do. And Remy, Remy have some things to do himself."

This was undoubtedly the strangest conversation I had ever had with a guy whose girl I was crushing on.

I nodded at him and turned back to where I had last left Rogue. "Remy? I think you better put your plans on hold."

"Mon ami?"

"It's Rogue. She's gone."


	8. Chapter 8

"My Rogue, she gone."

"I know. I told you, remember?"

"I let my Rogue go with you and you can't keep her safe for five minutes, mon ami?"

"Rogue's a big girl. She's also super strong and highly resistant to injury. How the hell could someone just _take_ her without us noticing?"

"I was with you, mon ami. I didn't see anything either, so I have no guess to make, no?"

"Wonderful. So from Mr. Suave to Cousin Cletus in thirty seconds?"

Gambit glared at me. "This is no time to be making with the jokes, Kyle. The longer Rogue is gone the harder it will be to find her."

"Shouldn't we just call Emma and have her do the Mental GPS thing?"

"I already been trying to call her." Gambit tapped his forehead. "She not at home right now."

"And there's no such thing as telepathic voice mail?"

"No there is not. We are on our own, mon ami."

"Fine. Come on."

"Mon ami? Why are you holding Gambit's hand? Gambit appreciates your admiration but he is really not that sort of fellow."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't flatter yourself, Cajun." I pulled him over to where Rogue had last been. "For this work, I need an emotional anchor. I need to use the bond between the two of you to find Rogue."

"You can't do it yourself?"

"Yeah, sure. Rogue's known me for all an hour so her spirit is totally linked to mine already and I'll have no trouble finding her without you." I laughed bitterly. "C'mon, pretty boy. Let's get going."

"I do not like that term, mon ami."

"Pretty boy?"

"When you use such a name for someone it implies a lack of respect—or a sign of affection. You do not know me well enough for the latter and I have done nothing to deserve such scorn. Call me Remy. Or Gambit. Do not call me this 'pretty boy.'"

"All right." I had a sneaky feeling that he was right—that I was judging him unfairly. God knows that I had been on the receiving end of such things enough to know better—but I didn't really want to apologize to a guy who had everything I never would so I decided to move on. "Think about Rogue. Think about nothing but Rogue."

"That will be easy, mon ami as you well know." He squeezed my hand.

"Eye of Agamotto."

The silver amulet on my neck pulsed with a faint glow and opened up, revealing that eye once more.

I closed my own, but instead of darkness I saw through the Eye.

The world was silver and black through the Eye … except for Rogue. Only Rogue looked like she always had. Only Rogue was real.

And then I saw the girl – the Hound.

I told Gambit what I saw.

"The girl. Blythe. The telepath. I don't see the others. She's walking up to Rogue—but she's different. Before she was on a leash—like an animal. Now … now she's almost normal. She walks up to Rogue and touches her forehead."

"She touched my Rogue? Why didn't she pass out?"

"She was wearing some kind of glove. She touched Rogue and then Rogue followed her back to some van." I spat out a curse. "The van drove away."

"Can you track it?"

"Not for much longer. The farther away they get, the fainter the trail will get."

"Then come on, mon ami. Gambit will take you for a ride."

The Eye is still watching the past so I have to let Gambit guide me through the crowd. "Get on."

He guides my free hand to a motorcycle and slips a helmet over my head.

"You carry two?"

"Non. Gambit does not like the 'helmet hair' but he insists his passengers be safe."

I laughed I spite of the situation. "You're a strange man, Remy."

"Says the man with the silver eyeball on his chest."

"You can see it?" I was impressed.

"I think only because you are using me to find my Rogue. Can you maintain contact with me without holding my hand. Gambit is a man of many talents but even he needs both hands to operate his motorcycle."

"Sure." I leaned forward and hugged him. "It's a good thing I'm secure in my masculinity or this would be very embarrassing."

Gambit laughed. "I like you, mon ami. I really do. Now hold on tight. We will find Rogue! Just tell me which way to go."

And we roared off.


	9. Chapter 9

"I wonder why they just didn't teleport her away when they had a chance?" It was a good thing I was concentrating on using the Eye; I think that I might have fainted if I had to actually _watch_ his driving.

"I have two guesses, mon ami." Gambit expertly moved the motorcycle between two cars in a space tight enough at I could almost feel the metal of their sides touch my legs. "First, this Blythe, she may not have the power to keep my Rogue out and transport at the same time. Second … second she is bait."

"Bait? You think they want you too?"

"I do not think it is me they want, mon ami."

I blinked. "Me? Why on Earth would they want _me_?"

"Because you are strong in the magic? Because you thwarted them and they carry a grudge? It could be any reason."

I felt … well, not _afraid_ exactly. (Okay, maybe there was _some_ fear.) But mostly I felt … exhilarated? Excited? I was _important_ enough that they wanted to account for me?

That was oddly flattering.

And rather disturbing.

Attracting attention was a bad idea. The Plan was going to be difficult enough as it was—I didn't really need everyone and his kid sister wanting a piece of me. I wasn't arrogant enough to think I could take that kind of heat—not yet, anyway.

So why on Earth did I _like_ it so much? Did I really want to _matter_ that badly?

"Still nothing on the mental party line?"

"Non. My guess is that this Blythe may be blocking telepathic communication."

"Won't that alert the others that something is wrong?"

"Not for Remy, no. Emma knew I was going out. She may be giving my Rogue some privacy and not be overly concerned with silence on her part." Remy (_Gambit! Dammit! Gambit! __**Not**__ Remy. Stop thinking of him as someone I'd like to be friends with—and Rogue as someone I'd like to be __**more**__ than friends with) _sighed. "Emma, she not too fond of Remy."

"A woman immune to your charms? I'm shocked!"

"She the exception that proves the rule, mon ami!" Gambit threw his head back and laughed.

I couldn't help myself. I laughed with him. "Must be tough being so irresistible!"

"It is a burden that Remy does his best to bear, mon ami." Remy chuckled.

"They're turning."

"Of course they are. That way lies nothing but the old warehouse district. A perfect place for a lair." Beat. "Or an ambush."

"Wonderful."

"You plan on staying in this business long enough and you'll learn all about these kinds of things."

"This business?"

"The hero business, mon ami."

"I'm not exactly a hero, Remy." _Gambit._ _Gambit dammit._

"That's what Remy used to say."

The van pulled into one of the warehouses.

"Can you see inside the warehouse?" Remy asked me.

"I'm a sorcerer not Kryptonian. I'm able to locate Rogue because of your connection to her. I know she's there. I know she's alive. And that's it."

"Then we will do this the old fashioned way." Remy shut off the motor of the motorcycle and we coasted into a nearby alley. "Wait here. Remy will scout this out."

"Gambit, wait."

"You not trained for this sort of thing, mon ami. I know you wish to be the gallant knight but …" Gambit reached into his belt and pulled out a metal rod which telescoped out into a staff.

"If that's the girl who attacked Rogue earlier all she has to do is open her mouth and you're going down for the count."

"There is that." Gambit paused. "What do you suggest?"

"I'm not a psychic, but I do have an idea." When casting a spell—a new spell—the first thing a sorcerer needs to do is conceptualize the results. I knew what I wanted. Once I had the image in my mind, all I had to do was cast the spell. "Shield of Seraphim."

"Um, mon ami? What did you just do?"

"A quick spell. The scream is both psychic and sonic. You're not going to be able to detect the frequency of the scream. It won't last long. About fifteen minutes. So make them count."

Gambit grinned at me. "Gambit does everything fast." He paused. "Well, _almost_ everything." He raised his hand in salute and then leaped towards the upper story of the warehouse."

So, yeah. All I had to do was sit at the motorcycle and wait for Gambit to do the heroic thing. He was the professional. There was no reason to assume that he couldn't kick butt and take names and have Rogue out in time for the three of us to have a nice lunch …

The _three_ of us?

Yeah, being the _third_ wheel in that relationship would be so much fun…

So, the sitting and waiting. Yeah. That was all I had to do.

Yeah. Just sit and wait …

I pulled that off for about two whole minutes before I decided to take a look and see what Gambit was up to.

I'm not exactly built for climbing, but being a sorcerer means that I don't have to.

I can't fly.

A powerful sorcerer—i.e., someone with a lot more power than me—_can_ fly but they generally prefer to use a cloak of levitation or a similar enchanted item so they don't have to waste their personal energy—but even a journeyman mage like me can pull acts of levitation.

What's the difference, you ask?

_Leverage._

I scanned the upper story of the warehouse until I found the ledge where Remy had entered it. It wasn't large, but as long as it was sturdy enough, it'd work.

Levitation is different than most forms of magic the Lady taught me. Levitation comes from within the sorcerer not by channeling energy from other realms. It's easier in some ways, but more … limited.

Hence, the _leverage_ comment.

For me to reach the second story, I needed something to hold onto. Something to _pull_ myself up with.

The tricky thing … the thing that made me nervous … was that if the ledge broke, then I would fall … and it would quite possibly hurt.

A lot.

I reached out with my mind and took a firm hold onto the ledge. I tugged at it … wincing as I heard it creak … and then I _pulled_.

I left my stomach on the ground for a moment and clung tightly to the window sill as I waited for it to catch up. "I HATE that."

When my stomach did decide that it wasn't going to jump out of my throat, I looked through the window.

Gambit was going to town.

He was jumping, leaping, running, tossing energy-charged cards, and in general acting like a much hotter version of the Tasmanian Devil …

(Yeah, I said it. I may be a guy but I can tell when another guy is good looking. I'd just rather not to.)

He was fighting what looked like a small army of guys and women … I was vaguely surprised they weren't wearing any sort of uniform. Street people were mixed in with blue collar workers and suited executives. They were armed with clubs and knives and shovels and rakes and whatever that they could put their hands on. They fought with ferocity and faces that seemed devoid of all expression.

The van that had driven off with Rogue was in the center of the warehouse. Now that I wasn't touching Remy I could no longer sense her presence, but I had no reason to doubt that she was still there.

Their blank expressions told me that the Warehouse Gang wasn't exactly doing this of their own free will. Given the way that Remy was fighting it was apparent that he had noticed it as well: he was doing his best to avoid seriously injuring them.

I pondered.

On the one hand, as long as he was keeping them busy, there was a chance I could sneak into the warehouse and try to free Rogue myself.

On the other, it was only a matter of time before Remy was either forced to seriously hurt them in order to avoid being overwhelmed or wound up losing the fight.

And without him, I'd be facing a telepath all by my inexperienced lonesome.

"This wouldn't be necessary if the X-Men just carried cell phones," I muttered to myself.

Of course I wasn't carrying one either, but then again there hadn't been anyone that I ever expected to talk to again on an ongoing basis …

The other thing of course was that I had to get into the warehouse in order to do anything …

I sighed.

"Now all I have to do is figure out how to get down …"


	10. Chapter 10

Landing cost me a twisted ankle, but it could have been worse.

The clock was ticking on the mental protection that I had given Remy. (I had given up trying to think of him as Gambit.) For all I knew, Ms. Mental Domination was just waiting to unleash a psi blitzkrieg on him as soon as his mind was no longer magically giftwrapped. Once that happened, saving Rogue was going to be twice as hard …

So bum ankle or not, I couldn't afford to waste any more time.

I hobbled my way to the front of the warehouse and just opened the door. Well, okay, I _tore _the door off its hinges magically. (Yeah, I didn't know I had it in me either.) "Remy! Keep them busy!"

Remy continued his spinning, thrusting, and parrying sparing me an exasperated glance. Clearly, he wanted to say something about my timing but didn't feel like he could spare the energy right now.

The van's engine roared to life.

Oh no. They weren't going anywhere!

"Crimson bands of Cytorrak!"

Crimson bands of energy wrapped around the van, slightly crushing the roof in.

I ran—well, okay, _limped_ to the van and _tore_ the doors open.

Blythe was sitting in the back with her hands wrapped around Rogue's neck. "One more step and she dies."

I froze.

Blythe wasn't wearing her dog's helmet. She looked like a rather pretty girl—barely more than a teenager. Her eyes weren't glowing this time, but her power was clearly self-evident.

Rogue's eyes were open but no one was home.

"You can't have her."

It was a simple statement of fact. She was not getting away with Rogue.

"I don't want her. She was just bait. I wanted you."

So Remy was right.

"You know, there are easier ways for a pretty girl to meet a guy. Have you tried placing an ad on Evil ?"

"I'm not evil."

"I'll give you a hint. 'One more step and she dies' is not exactly a sign of friendliness. Nor is mindjacking people and using them like puppets."

Blythe made a gesture, and I _felt_ something break against my wards.

The mob attacking Remy dropped like marionettes with broken strings.

"They're fine. They won't remember any of this when they wake up. I don't have much time. Once Iron Horse and Metalyx realize I'm up to something they'll take steps to keep me from ever doing this again. I'll never be free of them without help."

"Kyle! You okay, mon ami? How is my Rogue?"

"She's okay, Remy." I prayed I was telling the truth. Rogue was breathing, but her eyes scared me. "What do you mean? Aren't you free?"

"No. I'm not. I'm not really here. This is just a mental image, a psychic construct."

I thought about the kind of power that would take. It didn't exactly leave me feeling warm and tingly in a good way. The fact that someone could enslave someone with that kind of might didn't lower my blood pressure either. "Then let's not waste time. What do you want?"

"I need your help. They can stop any mutant from saving me—as long as they have me. I need someone—someone like you."

"Like I've never heard that from a woman before—generally right when she was about to ask me for a favor …"

"You're the one who said not to waste time here, sorcerer."

"Kyle—" Remy began.

"Quiet, X-Man. The adults are talking here." Blythe turned and looked at me again. "Save me."

"How?"

"The helmet. Iron Horse's helmet prevents me from using my full powers—and as long as I wear it, I'm not able to oppose them in any way. Remove that, and I'll help you stop them." She smiled at me. "I'll be _very_ grateful, I promise."

There were at least two ways I could take that. One involved me needing a cold shower. The other involving having the assistance of a powerful psychic with my Plan …

"How do we find you?"

Blythe touched Rogue's cheek. "I've given her the knowledge you'll need. Find me, sorcerer. Save me—before I have to kill you all."

And with that, Blythe faded away as though she had never been.


	11. Chapter 11

"I don't like it," Scott (why am I letting these people become important enough to me that their first names are how I mentally refer to them?) said, pushing his ruby glasses up against his nose. "It could be a trap."

"Ah'm not fond of it either, sugah," Rogue drawled, leaning against the wall. "But this gal managed to plant things into mah mind … and y'all know how hard that is to do. And from what Remy and Kyle said, she's too powerful to ignore. Not even Emma could pull off something like her little stunt."

Emma (damn it; even _her?_) sniffed. "She has a few tricks. I'm sure that I could counter anything she tried."

Scott looked at her.

"Eventually," she admitted.

"You the leader of the X-Men, mon ami," Remy said to Scott (and why was I feeling a stab of _jealousy_ over that "mon ami"?). "But in the end the decision will be my Rogue's. And Kyle's. And mine." He flashed a grin at me. "You don't think I'd let you two do this alone, did you?"

"I planned on you coming," I grinned back at him.

Rogue watched the two of us. "Ah can see Ah should never let you two be alone evah again."

Remy wiggled an eyebrow. "Cherie, you know Remy's heart belongs to you alone." He laughed. "Though Kyle, he do have a certain charm …"

"Don't go joining the other team, Gambit," Wolverine (okay, _him _I wasn't calling "Logan") growled. "You'll break so many hearts the Mansion'll flood from all the girls' tears." The little man looked over at me. "You and me, kid—time we had a talk."

"We're talking now, aren't we?" I knew what he wanted, but I didn't particularly feel like giving it to him.

"Alone, kid."

"Logan—" Rogue began.

"Is this necessary, Wolverine?" Scott asked. "Now?"

"Yes it is. Come on, kid. You and I are going to have a little chat before I let Rogue and the Cajun run off with you on some secret mission."

"'Let'?" Rogue growled. "You ain't mah pa, Logan. Remy and Ah don't need your permission for anything."

"Cherie. Let Papa Wolverine have his talk with our Kyle." He flashed a grin at me. "Kyle, he no baby either."

Those green eyes of her flickered to mine. "Kyle—"

"It's okay, Rogue." I stuck my hands in my jacket and looked over at Scott and Emma. "The girl has a lot of power—and from what she said, she was doing everything Remy and I saw from an astral projection. When someone with that kind of power says 'before I kill you all' I think it's worth listening to her."

Besides, she had said she would be grateful to me …

"Come on, kid. Follow me."

He was a short guy built like a brick wall with built in Ginsu blades.

And he scared the heck out of me.

But Rogue—and Remy—were watching and somehow that gave me the courage to follow the little Canuck out of the med lab and into a large room.

An _empty_ large room.

"I don't trust you, kid."

"Why?"

"Why should I trust you?"

"Why shouldn't you? I've done nothing against the X-Men—I kept Rogue from being kidnapped once and I helped recover her the second time. What have I said or done that causes you to not trust me?"

"You've got secrets."

"Yeah. So do you."

"Why did you come to New York, kid?"

"I don't owe you any answers."

_Snikt!_

"Care to rephrase that, bub?"

Okay. I admit it. I was scared. I had my ward up, but if it failed—

But … there was something else in me.

_Anger._

"Winds of Watoomb!"

A sudden gust out of nowhere struck Wolverine and hurled him away from me.

"You're freaking nuts!" I snarled at him. "Who the hell do you think you are?!"

The Winds had him pinned against the wall. They would not let him go until my concentration lapsed.

"Danger Room, go dark!" Wolverine barked.

Instantly the room went totally and utterly black.

Surprised, I let the Winds fall.

There was a spark of light as something struck against the edge of my ward.

"Nice protection you have there, kid," the surly voice said out of the darkness. "I'm impressed."

"Eye of—"

And suddenly I was slammed down on the floor.

"I've been around a long time, kid," Wolverine growled. "I know how magic works. I've seen the best. Long as you can't see me, long as I don't give you time to react, you can't hurt me. But I can hurt you if I have to. And I will if you're here to hurt Rogue."

"Man, you guys think everything is about you! I told you—all of you—that my being in New York had nothing to do with you. All I wanted was to get the Uru—" I stopped, hoping he would have no idea what Uru was …

"Uru? Thor's hammer? You're here for Thor's hammer?"

"What? No! Of course not!" I struggled. "And how do you know what Uru is?"

I felt the weight of his body being removed from mine. "I've been around a long time, kid. And you can't hang around Thor more than five minutes without him going on and on about his hammer."

So he knew about Thor's hammer. Maybe he didn't know what else Uru was good for, and I sure as hell didn't intend to tell him. "Look, Wolverine. What I want has nothing to do with mutants. Soon as this stuff with the X-Terminators is over, I'll be perfectly happy to disappear forever."

"You think it'll be that easy, kid?" Wolverine's voice was at my ear, but I didn't try to strike out at him—I was reasonably sure that, wards or not, he'd find a way to make me regret it if I tried. "You've got power, kid—but you're green. And young."

"Everyone was young once—even you I bet."

Wolverine laughed—this time I heard him out of my other ear. "To be what you are, kid, you had to pay a price."

"Yes," I admitted. "That's true."

"People who do that—people who pay that kind of price—have a reason for that. I don't know what your reason is, and what I don't know I don't trust."

I nodded.

"So are you going to tell me what you're really here for?"

"No."

I wouldn't. I couldn't.

"Danger Room, Lights on!"

Wolverine looked over at me. For a second, I thought I saw something like sadness in his eyes. "You paid a price for your power, kid. Maybe you think you're done paying—but I doubt it. Hope the final cost isn't more than you can afford."

And with that, he turned and left.


	12. Chapter 12

There is nothing as humbling as having your butt kicked by someone who wasn't even trying.

Ten years of studying magic. Ten years of hunting down every text, every scrap of mystical lore I could get my hands on. Ten years of letting the Lady—

Ten years and the only reason I was still alive was because he hadn't wanted to kill me.

Even if Wolverine had not been able to break through my ward—and I was not entirely sure he wouldn't have been able to manage that given time—he could easily have suffocated me.

I do kind of need to breathe, after all.

So, yeah. I felt humbled.

And more than a little scared.

Plainly, I was a lover not a fighter.

Of course, given my usual luck with the ladies, I couldn't really say that was all that much of a lover either.

I didn't much feel like eating, so after Wolverine left me I went up to my room—well, the guest room that the X-Men had given me—and cracked open my texts. If Wolverine—who hadn't really _wanted_ to hurt me—had been so easily able to clean my clock then Blythe's captors would probably have no problem at all.

So if I were going to do this—if I were going to let Rogue and Remy do this—I would have to be as prepared as possible.

There was a knock on the door. "Kyle? You decent?"

That Southern honey again. Even hours of study couldn't repress a smile when I heard her. "The jury's still out on that, Rogue."

"Can Ah come in? You need to eat. Ah brought you a sandwich."

"Sure."

The door swung open and Rogue came in with a tray.

"Hey, you said a sandwich. You didn't say there'd be a drink too. You entered under false pretenses!"

"Ah lied. Ah do that sometimes." She sat the tray down. "You look tired."

"Thanks. You look stunning."

She blushed slightly and raised a lace-gloved hand to her face. "You say the sweetest things, sugah."

"I only speak the truth. This time."

"This time?"

"I've been known to lie too."

"Or just not answer a question."

"That too."

I bit into the sandwich. Grilled cheese and milk. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I started to chew.

She let me eat for a few minutes. "So with luck, tomorrow will see this whole X-Terminator thing over with."

"Yeah." I finished off the sandwich and drained the milk. "Thank you. That was good."

"Ah could get you another if you'd like—"

"No thank you. I shouldn't eat any more." In truth, this was the first time I'd felt like eating since the Lady had taken her pound—well, about forty pounds, really—of flesh.

"So when this is all over, you're going to leave?"

"Yeah."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Ah wish you wouldn't."

I chuckled. "Much as I love the company— well, except for Wolverine—I have things to take care of and I can't do them here."

"There's no shame in losing a fight to Wolvie, sugah. He's the best there is at what he does—as he loves to say all the time."

I chuckled.

"Kyle?"

"Yes?"

"Don't go."

She was leaning very close to me. I could feel her breath on my face.

"Rogue—" I pulled back from her. "Why should I stay?"

She pulled back and hugged herself. "Ah don't want you to go."

"There's nothing here for me, Rogue."

"Ah wouldn't say that, Kyle."

Her eyes were so very green, her lips so very red…

"Rogue, don't. Just … don't." I shut my eyes to block her out. "I've seen the way you and Remy react to each other. There's no way I can compete with that. I'm not even going to try. I'm going to do what I promised and then I'm gone."

"Remy …" Rogue laughed softly. "Kyle—look at me, Kyle. Please."

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes.

"Remy and Ah … we nevah can seem to quit each other. We've been dancing around each other for years. Ah hurt him. He hurts me. And yet … and yet we can't walk away." She smiled at me. "He's in mah heart."

"And this is to convince me to stay—how?"

"Ah know it's not fair. Ah know it's selfish. But … Ah feel like you should be here, Kyle. Ah want you here. For me. And for Remy."

"Remy?"

"He likes you, Kyle. Ah'm almost jealous. What Remy and Ah have is complicated. What you have with him—is friendship. And that's something he's not had a lot of—not with other men, anyway."

"I'm not a mutant, Rogue. This isn't a place for someone like me. There _isn't _a place for someone like me."

"Ah used to think the same. Ah've done things in mah life, Kyle. Bad things. Things Ah'm not proud of. Ah came to the X-Men for help because Ah had no choice—because mah powers were driving me crazy. They didn't like me. They sure as hell didn't trust me. And yet … and yet Ah found a home here."

"Rogue…" Why the hell did she have to sit so close to me? It was hard to think when I could practically _feel_ her warmth.

"Kyle, just think about it. That's all Ah'm asking. Once this is done … just think about staying." She reached out and touched my face with her lace gloved hand, tracing my lips with her fingers. "For me."

"For you, I'll think about it." _Just not very long._ There was nothing for me with the X-Men. If they knew what I planned … No, it was best I leave and never return …

"Ah suppose Ah should let you get back to your work, then. Ah see you when it's time to start our mission. Try to get some sleep though, Kyle."

"Maybe if you come back in a few hours to tuck me in…" I grinned at her.

"Ah may just do that, Kyle." She smirked at me as she got up. "Ah'm pretty good at taking care of little boys …"

"Yes, mama."

She laughed. "Good night, Kyle."

"Good night, Rogue."

"And, Kyle?"

"Think about it. Think about staying." She smiled softly, sadly. "And think about me."

And after she left, I found that I did little else _but_ think about her until sleep finally claimed me.


	13. Chapter 13

"Kyle …"

It was dark.

"Mon ami. It is past time you be up and around for this mission of ours."

I opened my eyes up and Remy was grinning down at me.

I glanced at the clock beside my bed. "How on Earth can you be so darn energetic at this hour?"

"Practice, mon ami. A proper thief must know when to seize the right moment. If we are to liberate this Blythe we must do it when they least expect it."

I rubbed my eyes. "All right. Do we have time for breakfast or are we supposed to eat and run?"

"The sooner you get ready, the sooner we can begin." Remy was smiling—I don't think I had seen him entirely serious since I met him—but I could sense a level of professionalism about him that I hadn't encountered before. This was Gambit on a mission.

I ran—okay, stumbled—into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, doing my best to avoid the sight of my reflected scars in the mirror. If I were going to die I wanted to make sure that I did so with minty fresh breath. The shower was colder than I liked but I didn't want to waste time waiting for it to heat up. As Remy said, the sooner we started the sooner it'd be over.

And I did not want to think about the risks of what we would be facing. I had prepared my magic as best I could—but Wolverine had shown me quite convincingly that magic wasn't enough to guarantee my safety. I could still die.

If the Lady would permit it.

When I came out wearing a towel, Rogue was there to greet me.

"Where's Remy?" I asked her in confusion, acutely aware of how naked I was.

"He went to grab us some breakfast up before we leave." Rogue smiled at me. "Ah must say, sugah, Ah like what Ah'm seeing."

I blushed.

I wasn't used to this. Wasn't used to being looked at like this. I had spent most of my life learning how to go about unnoticed (good things seldom happened for me when someone _did_ notice me.) But now … Rogue was looking at me in a way that I had never experienced before

"Thanks," I mumbled. "Though I think I had better dressed. It's hard to work magic when you're holding a towel up with one hand."

"Ah'm not stopping you, sugah."

"You kinda are. Not really big on putting clothes on in front of a beautiful woman."

"But you'd have no problem taking them off?"

"Depending on the circumstance, maybe." I looked for my clothing. I hadn't come to the X-Mansion (get it; _X-Mansion?_) with a lot—heck, I didn't have a lot of anything period these days—but I was sure I still had at least one pair of clean underwear left.

"Ah got you something, sugah." Rogue stepped aside so I could see the bed.

There was a wrapped package on it.

"Go on. Open it."

"Okay. Thanks." I wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea that she had gotten me something. Gifts implied … _obligation? _I opened the package up. "My own clothes? Thanks."

"Not exactly, sugah. They're duplicates made of something called 'unstable molecules.'"

"You're kidding."

"No Ah'm not. It's something Reed Richards came up with. You've heard of him, right?"

"Yeah. Tall guy. Likes to use big words and has a really hot wife, right?"

"Y"all think Sue Richards is hot?" She gave me a look of mock disappointment. "Ah thought you had taste, Kyle."

"Hot in a Mrs. Brady kind of way?"

"That's even worse. Ah suggest you stop while you're ahead, Kyle."

I scooped up the clothes and headed for the bathroom. "So what was the occasion?" I was surprised at how well the clothing fit. They didn't _feel_ like my clothes somehow—and these fit my new, more slender build.

"The clothing is a bit tougher than normal cloth. It won't make you bulletproof but it can turn aside a blade and protect you from fire and electricity. Ah thought that'd be a good idea."

"Appreciate it. Thanks."

"If you stay, it's a welcome to the team gift. If you leave, it's a farewell present. Either way, Ah'm covered." She was wearing a thick green bodysuit and heavy green gloves now. She reached out with a gloved hand and took one of mine. "Let's go, sugah."

I took her hand in mine. "Just because you bought me clothes doesn't mean I'm going to put out."

Rogue laughed. "Ah love it when they play hard to get."

I squeezed her hand. What the hell was going on here? I knew there was no future here—knew there was no future with Rogue. Why was she doing this to me?

Why was she doing this to herself?

What was _I_ doing to myself?

We made our way down to the kitchen. The mansion was mostly dark—by the clock it was just three in the morning. I could smell coffee brewing in the kitchen.

Remy was there, and to my surprise so was Scott.

The leader of the X-Men was wearing his uniform, but his mask was still pulled down. He looked impossibly awake for someone up at three a.m. "Kyle."

"Scott."

"Rocky!" Henry McCoy—the Beast—bounded out of the kitchen, balancing a tray of food on one oversized paw. "Sorry. I could not resist the moment. Have a pancake, Kyle."

"Can I have a plate too?"

"But of course, mon ami." Remy sauntered out of the kitchen. He was wearing an apron over his trench coat. "Remy make the best pancakes in all of New York."

"Really?"

"They are _very_ good," Henry told me.

"Thief. Hero. Maker of pancakes. Truly you are a Renaissance man, Remy."

"Gambit's talents are endless, mon ami." Remy flashed a grin at me. "Now eat up. We must soon be on our way."

"You understand the plan?" Scott asked me.

"I think so. I cast the wards to prevent Blythe's powers from affecting the team. You pilot the jet to get us near the coordinates of the X-Terminators aerial headquarters that Blythe gave Rogue. Rogue uses the knowledge Blythe gave her to get us inside. Gambit uses his skills to get us to Blythe. Henry uses his scientific knowhow to free her from whatever is holding her captive and then we make a break for it with her. Do you have maple syrup?"

"I would rather not have an untrained civilian on this mission, Kyle. Are you positive you won't just stay in the jet?"

In truth, that was sounding better all the time, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. "No way. These wards are a bear to cast and I want to be there in case something goes wrong. And Blythe asked for me specifically. It could be that her cage—whatever it is—can't be broken by a mutant."

"This could still be a rather complicated stratagem for the express purpose of luring you into a trap, young sorcerer. And call me Hank."

"Anything is possible, Henry. Hank. It just doesn't make sense to me. I mean, they just met me."

Rogue paused. "Kyle, there's something you should know."

"I always get nervous when people say that."

"Blythe could be from the future."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"The outfit she was wearing when we met her? That was a Hound's outfit." Rogue looked over at the others as though she wanted one of them to continue the explanation, but Remy gestured at her with his hand for her to continue. "The X-Men have encountered people from the future—several futures maybe—one of our members was a daughter of Scott's named Rachel."

I glanced over at Scott and saw the leader of the X-Men wince slight. His lips twitched but he said nothing.

"Rachel was a Hound."

"Scott's daughter was a dog?"

Remy stifled a laugh.

"No," Scott said in a harsh voce. "She was a _slave._ In that future humanity enslaved humanity and used some mutants as trackers, hunters—they hunted down their fellow mutants."

I thought about that for a moment. I looked over at him. "I'm sorry, Scott. Is she-?"

"She's gone now." He covered his face with his hands. "It's a long story, Kyle."

"The point is, sugah—these X-Terminators may know all about you by now. They may have records that tell them exactly who you are and what you can do. You may even be what they've wanted all along."

There was only one thing I could say to something like that.

"I'd like another pancake please …"


	14. Chapter 14

The X-Men let me have one more pancake before we took off.

It was a _very_ good pancake. Maybe because the thought of imminent death makes things taste better. That being said, I could have lived without the secret spice of mortal danger added to my breakfast.

The X-Jet—Cyclops called it "The Blackbird"—took off vertically with almost no noise whatsoever.

"Shi'ar technology, sugah," Rogue told me when I asked about it.

"Cher makes jets?"

"Shi'ar. An alien race of bird people, mon ami. Once upon a time, they were allies of the X-Men. Now, not so much," Remy commented.

"Okay …"

"Don't look so shocked, sugah. Remy didn't even tell you about how Professah X used to be engaged to one of them."

"Your Professor X was engaged to a bird?"

"Technically, the Shi'ar are no more birds than we are simians," the Beast commented as he scratched underneath a furry arm. "They are simply descended from avian ancestors …"

I looked at the blue furred gorilla-like mutant telling me this. "Right …"

"Cut the unnecessary chatter, people," Cyclops barked at us. "Kyle, are those psi shields in place yet?"

"I cast them when we left, but it won't hurt to reinforce them." I closed my eyes. "Shield of Seraphim!"

"Maybe you should have Kyle cast this spell upon you more often, Cyclops," Remy grinned. "Would it make it easier to surprise Emma with her Christmas gift, no?"

Cyclops snorted.

"It is perhaps not wise to needle our esteemed leader," the Beast murmured to the rest of us. He was wearing a backpack and thick belt that literally screamed "High Tech Devices"!

Well, not _literally_, but you get the picture.

"Cyke, how much longah?" Rogue asked in that Southern Honey voice of hers again.

"Engaging the cloaking device now. For what it's worth, sensors aren't reading anything out here either. Are you sure we're at the right spot?"

"These are the coordinates Lil Miss Psycho implanted in mah brain." She looked over at Beast. "Your fancy doodads read anything the Blackbird's not?"

"No," With his face, it was hard for Henry McCoy to smirk, but he nevertheless pulled it off. "However, by reading what they _aren't_, I'm confident we're at the right location."

"Come again?" I blinked.

"If there were nothing there, the air currents at this height would react in a different fashion. They aren't, so clearly something invisible is affecting localized wind patterns."

"Oh."

"Rather fascinating, actually. I wouldn't think of this myself if I hadn't made an extensive sturdy of the Shi'ar cloaking device we are using now."

"Hank, based on your calculations, how close are we now? I don't want to fly into that thing."

"Now would be a good time to stop, fearless leader."

Cyclops deftly eased back on the throttle and feared up the VTOL jets. "Done."

"Now how are we going to find our way into something we can't see?" Rogue asked.

"Guess that's where I come in." I got up. "If I use the Eye of Agamotto I should be able to 'see' this thing and hopefully locate a door."

"Can you do this from inside the jet?"

"I should."

"Ah could fly you outside," Rogue offered.

"Um, wouldn't they spot us?"

"That is indeed a possibility," the Beast noted. "Perhaps we should let Kyle make his attempt from inside the jet."

"You mean you don't wanna fly outside in mah arms, sugah?" Rogue's eyes twinkled at me. "Ah'm hurt."

"Some other time, Rogue." I smiled. "Eye of Agamotto!"

The Silver Eye on my chest opened up, and … well… picture a searchlight effect and you get the idea. As I played the beam across the Blackbird's cabin … "Um, Rogue? Please get behind me."

"Why is that, sugah?"

"Let's just say that I'm seeing enough of you right now to make Remy jealous …"

Rogue mock glared at me as she sauntered out of range. "Boys …"

"Cyke," part of me was surprised at how easily the nickname flowed off my lips. "Can you move the jet around? We seem to be right behind it, and I'm not seeing any sort of entrance here."

"Roger," Cyclops murmured. "Does it look like anything you've ever seen before?"

"Hard to say from this distance, but it kinda looks to me like someone took a good chunk of an aircraft carrier and stuck propellers on it."

"A helicarrier?" Beast asked me.

"Guess that's as good a name as any," I replied.

"In that case, it is quite possible that Lady Luck has chosen to smile at us," he said. "During my time with the Avengers, I saw quite a bit of the standard Shield Helicarrier. Assuming this one is constructed in a similar fashion, I believe I know our best point of entry. My good Cyclops, if you could but fly us under the great aerial contraption I believe I can locate a maintenance hatch that Remy will have no problem opening to gain us entry."

"Remy believes he knows the spot you are talking about, Henry." The Cajun smiled… well, smirked actually. "And Remy believes he knows where they would most likely be holding our Mademoiselle Blythe as well."

"How would you know that?" I asked him.

"Remy has been known to … explore … a Shield Helicarrier before, mon ami."

"He only refers to himself in the third person so much because girls dig his accent, right?" I asked the Beast.

"Indubitably, Kyle. Indubitably."


	15. Chapter 15

Hank had little trouble opening the entrance hatch once we found it. He and Gambit easily leaped through it while Rogue ferried me from the jet to the Helicarrier.

I steadfastly refused to look down. _Down _was a terribly long way from this height.

"Ah have you, sugah. Don't worry," Rogue drawled as she flew me into the Helicarrier.

"I'm not scared, Rogue. Terrified maybe, but not scared."

"You didn't mention you were afraid of heights."

"I just found out."

Remy grabbed my hand and pulled me into the Helicarrier. His grip was surprisingly strong, and welcome. "Don't you fret, Kyle. Remy not about to let his wingman down."

"Wingman? I thought you were _my_ wingman!" I took a deep breath and quickly walked as far away from the hatch as Hank would let me.

"Please," Hank said, waving something like a Star Trek Tricorder around. "You are both obviously _MY _wingmen."

"Don't encourage them, Hank," Rogue said as she shut the hatch. "They're bad enough as is."

"This is Cyclops. I'm pulling back before they pierce my shielding. Keep me posted, Hank. Blackbird out."

"Aye aye, mon Capitan!" Hank saluted smartly which of course Cyclops couldn't see but he probably heard the rest of us laugh.

"So you guys went to Radio Shack and bought some radios instead of depending on the psychic hotline," I observed as Hank fiddled with a headset that didn't exactly fit his pointed ears.

"Avengers gear," Hank explained. "Cyclops thought it prudent that we take precautions this time giving the telepathic blackout you experienced earlier."

"So this is a SHIELD Helicarrier?" I asked, glancing at the narrow hallway we were in. It seemed to be some sort of airlock, actually. Given that Hank wasn't exactly tiny, it was a tight fit for the four of us. "Kinda smells like a high school locker room."

"Ah must admit that it is rather fragrant." Rogue waved a gloved hand in front of her face.

"You want Gambit to open the door, Henry?" Gambit asked.

"There should be alarms, Remy. Let me use my Tech Pack to examine our immediate surroundings."

"Make it quick, mon ami. Remy is getting the itchy fingers."

"Don't get any ideas, Cajun," Rogue said, stepping behind me.

"Hank I could try to mystically cloak us. It wouldn't exactly make us invisible but it might things a little safer."

"I'd rather you not do so just yet, Kyle. Magic has a way of interfering with my more delicate equipment. I'm trying to patch into the security system of the Helicarrier. Once I do so, I will not only be able to shield us, but hopefully locate our quarry."

"Gambit is not a fan of standing still in one spot, Henry. A thief who is not on the move is a thief who will soon be found."

"This is a search and rescue mission, Remy. We must do the search before we can do the rescue."

"You search in your way, Hank." I sat down on the floor—deck?—and crossed my legs Indian style. "I'll search in mine."

"You going to use your amulet again? Should Gambit stand aside so as not to give you a complex, Mon ami?" Remy asked me with a grin.

"No. I'm going to scout ahead without my body."

"Astral travel?" Hank asked me. "I was unaware that was one of your abilities, Kyle."

"Well, let's just say that I was doing some studying last night. Besides, I have the Eye to help me." I glanced over at Rogue. "Um, please don't let Remy do something embarrassing to my body while I'm away from it."

"Would Gambit do that?" Remy asked with an overly innocent expression on his face.

"Do I even need to dignify that with a response?" I asked him in return.

"Don't worry, Kyle. Ah'll make sure that Remy is on his best behavior." She knelt down beside me and stroked my cheek with a gloved hand. "Be careful, sugah."

"Always." She was close enough to kiss …

But I didn't.

I knew her power.

I knew the risk.

Not just to me; but to her.

There were things about me she didn't know. Things she _couldn't_ know. If her power would let her learn my secrets, learn of the Lady …

No.

I closed my eyes. "Eye of Agamotto."

The Eye opened and a silvery energy duplicate flew out of it and attached itself to my forehead. Even without my eyes, I saw it.

Okay. That part went exactly as the texts said that it would.

I took another deep breath.

The next part would either be very easy … or impossible.

I …_strove._

Magic is fueled by belief. Without it, Magic is impossible.

But it's not just belief. It's also visualization. To make a spell work, you have to _know_ it will work. You have to be able to _make _it work, bend reality to your will.

I'm pretty good at that.

Normally.

"Kyle? Sugah? You still there?"

I opened an eye and glared at her. "I'm working on it."

"You might want to hurry. Hank is about ready for us to leave… Maybe this isn't going to work out."

I shut my eye again.

_C'mon, Kyle. You've done all sorts of magic before. This shouldn't be that hard. You're just splitting your mind from your body … and the worse that can happen if you fail is that you remain unable to rejoin it. No pressure there, right?_

Breathe.

Finally, it was less visualization than sensation that pulled it off. Rather, the visualization of a sensation translated into what I wanted to accomplish.

Ever have a sunburn? A really _bad _sunburn?

Remember that sensation of peeling off a patch of your skin?

_That_ was my key.

I used that sensation, that moment of imagination … and I _peeled _out of my body.

And there I was, looking at me …

I really needed a shave, I decided. And maybe a haircut.

And Rogue was holding me.

"Kyle? You still in there, sugah?" She touched my cheek again. "Kyle? Remy, he ain't answering me."

"I think Kyle's lights are on but he not at home, Cherie." Remy knelt down beside me and waved a hand in front of my eyes.

Damn.

Even I had to admit that Remy was in good shape …

I still didn't appreciate his admittedly tight butt waving in front of my astral face though.

I walked around him and looked at Rogue.

There was concern in her eyes.

Concern for me.

I was an astral spirit now. I could not touch her. She could not touch me.

But I couldn't resist.

I gently brushed my nonexistent lips against her cheek.

"Kyle?" She touched her cheek in the same spot where I had "kissed" her. Her eyes were wide and she was blushing slightly.

I grinned even though there was no one to see it.

All that studying? All that effort?

Totally worth it.

And with that, I turned and walked through the door.


	16. Chapter 16

All in all, the place was a dump.

The plastic was faded. Glass surfaces were scratched. The metal deck had dents, bulges, and even _holes _in it. Here and there were suspicious stains that were either _very_ bad coffee stains or … _blood._

Sharing this information with the X-Men proved to be a problem. Adepts at Astral travel can communicate telepathically with practically any mind that is not psychically protected. The competent can share their thoughts with those they are closest too.

Me … well, not so much.

Try as I might, I couldn't communicate anything to Rogue. Remy heard nothing. (I devoutly hoped he wasn't doing something embarrassing to my body.) I tried Hank without much hope… and got the results I expected.

Zilch.

It's sort of embarrassing to be a scout when you can't communicate your results back to the troops…

I was debating heading back to the others to report what I had seen so far—confident that my connection to my body would surely bring me back "home"—when I saw something that made me pause.

A … robot?

It was easily eight foot tall. With purple and blue body armor and a face that was a mechanical parody of a human one. It moved slowly … and was miss an arm. It didn't look like a recent "wound" because it appeared to have had sort of repair attempt made – wires were taped off, metal edges were rounded …

Like the Helicarrier, he had obviously seen better days.

After a few minutes, I saw another one. This one was whole in body, but his face was half torn off. He had a peculiar half-lurch, half hopping gait.

And then another who was carrying his head…

Within the span of about ten minutes I had seen at least a dozen of these semi-wrecked robots.

But not one human being.

This was important.

I didn't quite know why, but this was important. I could feel it in my bones.

Of course how was I supposed to tell the X-Men that?

Returning back to my body seemed like a good idea but I wasn't sure that I wouldn't find out something else if I kept on.

Damn.

Indecisive me.

This was why I clearly wasn't cut out to be a hero. Can you imagine Captain America or Iron Man having this problem?

I _had_ to talk to the X-Men!

Okay. I couldn't communicate telepathically. But my astral form and physical body were still connected. Perhaps I could speak through my body while still remaining outside it … of course it wouldn't do any good if I weren't able to hear …

I decided to go for hearing first …

After a moment or two, I seemed to hear something. It was as faint as a lover's whisper in the dark, but I could make out words…

"You sure you don't want Remy to carry him, Cherie?"

"Ah've got him, Remy. Kyle needs to be looked after while he's doing this."

"You think that Remy wouldn't look after him?"

"No, sugah. Ah know you and Kyle are friends. Ah just … Ah wouldn't feel right about it." I heard a faint sigh. "He's doing this for me. If anything happens to him …"

"Kyle, he a grown man, Cherie. He makes his own choices just like we all do."

"We've trained for this, Remy. This is how we live. This isn't what Kyle wants. It's not what he came here for."

"We don't know what he came here for," Remy observed. "But life has a way of sending us where we should be, no?"

"I don't suppose the two of you remember that we're trying to be stealthy…"

"Sorry, Henry. Remy will try to be more quiet …"

"That'll be a first, Cajun," I whispered.

"Kyle! Are you back with us, mon ami?"

"Not yet. Just checking in to let you know what I've found out so far. No people yet but the ship seems full of purple and gunmetal blue robots."

"Sentinels!" Rogue whispered.

"Mutant hunting robots," Hank explained to me. "Be very careful, Kyle. They are quite formidable."

"These look like they should be hanging out at a junkyard. In fact, the whole ship looks like it's about 500 miles from a breakdown."

"I had noticed the same thing though we have not yet encountered any of the mechanical mutant hunters," Hank said. I still couldn't see what was going on where they were, but I could hear his gear making beeping noises as he fiddled with it. "In fact with the power readings I am detecting it's a wonder that the Helicarrier is able to remain in the air, much less hide itself from conventional detection."

"That's good, right? Means that they'll have a harder time stopping us?"

"I distrust a mystery, Kyle. I recommend that you not head for the normal prisoner cells. Go to the engineering deck."

I had a feeling that I knew why Hank was making that suggestion, but I didn't bother to spell it out. And it also made me rather nervous about the potential outcome of our little quest. "On it. Be back soon."

"Be careful, sugah."

"I'll do my best. I've counted my cash, Remy, so don't get any ideas!"

"Bah. Remy never stoops to stealing anything under four figures, mon ami."

And I snapped my mind back to my astral body.

Whoa. That felt …weird

Since we had started at the bottom of the Helicarrier, it didn't take me too long at all to find the engineering deck.

Nothing beats being able to float through doors, walls, and up elevator shafts.

I could see the … engines? Reactors? Batteries? … that connected to the rotors and antigravity units that kept the Helicarrier in the air. Most of them were offline—they were dark, their monitor screens shattered, disconnected from the rest of the Helicarrier.

In the center of the deck, though, was a large … cage. Thick cables were attached to the cage which fed back to the engines that were still active. The cables pulsed with light.

And in the center of the cage was a girl. A girl wearing a helmet that also had a cable attached to it—a cable that led to the other cables attached to the cage.

Blythe.

The girl we had come to rescue.

_She _was the power source.

She was powering the entire Helicarrier all by herself.

Assuming the X-Men could get past the Sentinels that stood between them and the engineering deck we just had one more problem.

Having found her, how on Earth could we remove Blythe from her cage without sending the whole Helicarrier crashing to earth?!

.


	17. Chapter 17

"I know you're there, sorcerer."

_You can see me?_

"'Seeing' is a rather inaccurate term for how I am able to perceive you. But take my word for it that I know you're there."

Damn.

Not only could she "see" me, she could also "hear" me … and that was a trick I couldn't even pull off myself!

"I take it you're here to rescue me?"

_More or less._

For all her air of detachment, competence, she was _young_. Younger than me. Maybe _possibly _she was 20. She didn't look quite as pretty in real life as she had in her projected image. She was _thin_—not super model thin but rather "I'm lucky if I see a 1000 calories on a good day" kind of way. Her eyes were blue—and had a lifetime's worth of pain in them. "More or less?"

_Well, the X-Men are here with me. It's going to be a bit tough for me to do much in the way of rescuing without my body._

"You can't cast some sort of spell to free me?"

_Why does everyone think that all I have to do is say "abracadabra" and all my problems are solved? _

"Where are the X-Men?"

_On their way. Hopefully these Sentinels aren't going to delay them too long. _

"The Sentinels are barely functional. I doubt they will be able to stop the X-Men. They weren't in good shape to begin with, and the trip nearly finished them."

_The X-Men said that you're something called a Hound. That you could be from the future. Judging by the shape of this ship I'm assuming we're talking more a "Mad Max" than "Star Trek" kind of time._

"I have no idea what you just said."

A future that didn't know about Mad Max or Star Trek? Now I was _really_ horrified.

(Okay, that's sarcasm. I do that sometimes. You may or may not have noticed that.)

"But, yes, I am from the future, and it is not a pleasant one. There has been a devastating war between humans, mutants, and Sentinels."

_Who won?_

"No one. There can be no victor in a war that causes the near total destruction of the planet. In my time, the world is dying. This jaunt through time was the last desperate attempt to prevent the complete annihilation of everything."

"Who are you talking to, Blythe?"

I turned and saw the giant lumbering form of Iron Horse. With him was the cyborg, Metalyx. The woman looked angry—but then I suppose I'd be permanently pissed off too if the only part of me left was the head.

"I told you it was folly to allow her any self-awareness, Iron Horse. You know what she's done. You know what she's capable of."

"You're a fine one to talk, Metalyx. How many of my people did you kill? How many women and children have you murdered?"

"It was _war!_" Whether or not Metalyx believed that, I wasn't sure. "What I did was necessary. You ... your crimes were committed _after_ the war was over! Why else did your own kind bind you over to this task, mutant?"

"What's done is done. Our time … our future … ends unless we can undo what has been done. The mutant, Rogue … her powers are the only hope we have to recover what was lost in the war." Iron Horse turned his head in a three hundred and sixty degree arc. (At least he wasn't spitting out pea soup). "I am scanning to see if I can detect who Blythe is speaking to."

"You won't find anything, robot." Blythe struggled to her feet. "Even your fabled ancestors couldn't find what didn't exist." The look she gave Iron Horse was one of complete and utter hatred—far more than the disdain she felt for Metalyx.

"A Stark will always find a way. You know that, Blythe."

"You are _not_ a Stark, robot! You're just a _machine!"_

"You didn't used to think so. You used to call me friend."

"I _trusted_ you, Stark!"

"I thought you said I was not a Stark, Blythe."

"I _believed _in you, Anthony! I _fought_ beside you! I _loved_ you! And you did this to me! You _enslaved_ me!"

"I had no choice, Blythe. This was necessary. _Is_ necessary. There was no other way. That's why Metalyx joined me. That's why the last of the mutants aided in your capture. Your power was the only way we had to return to the past."

"So logical, so precise, Anthony. I can remember when you had a softer touch." Her eyes flickered towards Metalyx. "Does she know about _that?_ How you used to _touch_ me? Of course you were different then. Smaller. Almost human."

"You were different then too."

"The sorcerer, mutant," Metalyx said suddenly. "I have not been able to find mention of him in our records. Do you know who he is? Did you arrange for his presence when we tried to acquire Rogue?"

"Oh no, Metalyx. That was simply your bad luck. Perhaps if he hadn't been there you would have Rogue and we would have already returned home. As it is, you're going to have to deal with the alerted X-Men with only Anthony's ramshackle Sentinels to help you."

"_You_ will help us, Blythe." There was a trace of vindictive pleasure in Metalyx's voice. "You have no choice in the matter."

"She is trying to distract us," Iron Horse announced suddenly. "She was speaking to someone when we arrived. They may still be here."

"And yet invisible to your sensors?" Metalyx's hands twitched and suddenly one looked some kind of pistol while the other was a heavy bladed weapon. "How can that be? No known mutant affiliated with the X-Men should have that power at this time."

"It must be the sorcerer."

"Damn him! Are you still here, sorcerer?!" Metalyx's eyes searched the air. She began firing wild blasts from the hand that had become the pistol. "I won't let you destroy our plans! We _will_ save the world!"

"Metalyx! Stop it! You're going to—"

Her wild blasts struck the device atop Blythe's cage. It crackled with the blast and then went dead.

And Blythe laughed.

"Thank you, sorcerer! Thank you, Metalyx!"

She gestured, and the cage about her exploded.

"Now let's have all the players together, shall we?"

She gestured, and suddenly Remy, Rogue, Hank, and my body were present.

Not being much use as Kyle the Friendly Spirit, I dove back into body.

"Shield of Seraphim!"

I cast the spell around the X-Men and myself. I'd like to say that I would have done the same for Iron Horse and Metalyx if they had been closer, but I honestly don't know.

"Kyle! What's happening?!"

"It appears that the mysterious Ms. Blythe has managed to free herself."

"X-Men!" Iron Horse shouted. "You must help us subdue her! Blythe Storm is too dangerous to allow her freedom!"

"Oh hush, Anthony."

Iron Horse and Metalyx were both frozen in mid-air.

"Blythe … Storm?" Remy asked.

"Indeed, Mr. LeBeau." Blythe rose into the air. "I have to say that it's an honor to meet all of you. You're almost family. My grandfather was almost one of you—and my great-grandfather fought you time and again."

"Who are you?" Rogue hissed, taking a protective stance in front of Remy and myself.

"She is Magneto's great-grandchild, mutant! Now kill her before she slays us all!" Metalyx struggled to free herself, but she was no more able to move than Iron Horse.

"And my other grandfather is Jonathan Storm, otherwise known as the Human Torch." Blythe smiled almost coyly at us. "And now that my family history is out of the way, let me explain why we are here."

"She is mad!" Metalyx screamed.

"Quite probably so," Blythe admitted calmly. "But then again, the times we live in are rather mad. There was a war, X-Men. A war between human, mutant, and Sentinel that devastated the planet. I was a Hound. I led the Sentinels to my people's hiding places—I helped them find and kill them until Anthony—Iron Horse here—saved me."

"This be the monologue, Kyle," Remy whispered to me. "Try to act like you're interested."

"I loved him for that. I fought with him to try to stop the war—and the more I fought, the more my power grew."

"She killed the strongest among us," Metalyx whispered. "Mastermold. The most powerful mutants. Our greatest human leaders. Even after there was a ceasefire, she continued killing."

"And then Anthony betrayed me. I trusted him. And he used that trust to help them capture me. And then he _chained_ me. Used me to power this ship. Used my power to fuel his time machine. _Enslaved _me just like the Sentinels did." She shrugged. "I will not forgive you for that, Anthony."

"Why did they want me?" Rogue asked.

"You contain the echoes of some of the most powerful beings in history … their powers, their knowledge … Anthony hoped they could use you as a template to draw those powers back into existence, use that knowledge to restore the planet."

"Blythe," Hank said suddenly. "You have ample reason to hate Anthony and Metalyx. But do not do this. Do not give into your hatred, your lust for revenge. Your grandfather Jonathan is a good man. He would not want you to do this. And Magneto … "

He trailed off.

"If they had asked me, I would have helped them," Blythe said softly. "If _he_ had asked, I would have helped. But they didn't ask. They _took_. They _used _me. I won't be used again. Not by Anthony. Not by Metalyx. My world—my time—it _deserves_ to die. _They_ deserve to die. They _all_ deserve to die."

Ah, crud.

I didn't want to do this. This wasn't my fight. Not my place.

But I couldn't stand by and let people die.

"Blythe," I said, and my voice sounded pretty shaky, even to me. "I can't let you do this. I _won't_ let you do this."

"You really think you can stop me, sorcerer?" Blythe asked, sounding more amused than I had yet heard her. "You with your little bag of tricks? Your handful of spells? You really think you can stop one of the most powerful Psionics in history from doing _anything?_"

"I guess we're about to find out."

And I stepped free of my world and raised my hands for a fight that was probably going to be very short, and very painful.

Damn.

I should have known that Rogue would be the death of me.


	18. Chapter 18

"I don't want to kill you, sorcerer."

"That's encouraging."

"But you will not stop me. Now stand aside."

"I can't do that, Blythe. I won't." Why? 'Cause I'm an idiot. A fool who was about to throw his life away … and yet I _couldn't_ stand aside.

Still … that didn't mean I had to make it easy for her.

"Vapors of Valtorr!"

Out of nowhere a thick fog sprang up, obscuring everyone, everything...

"No! You can't hide them from me!"

I felt _something _sweep across the room and the fog was pushed back … it didn't dissipate, but the immediate area was no longer hidden.

"You are as nothing to me, sorcerer. All your knowledge. All your power. And you are nothing."

"Believe me, I've heard that before! Rains of Raggadorr!"

A small thunderstorm materialized above Blythe's head and began striking her repeatedly with lightning bolts. Once. Twice. Three times. Four …

Blythe was knocked out of the air. She was driven to her knees.

"Kill her!" Metalyx screamed. "Kill her now while you have the chance!"

The sudden shout, the bloodlust … it momentarily broke my concentration.

The fog vanished. The thunderstorm faded to nothing.

Blythe rose to her feet. "Nice try, sorcerer. But now it's my turn." She held out her hand.

And I was suddenly five feet off the ground held in what felt like a grip of iron.

She brought her hand down violently to her side.

And I smashed into the deck with enough force to dent it.

My ward momentarily flared into visibility at the impact … a sign of just how powerful the impact had been.

But it held.

I hurt like hell, but I wasn't a bloody smear on the deck.

"Impressive, sorcerer."

She made another gesture and I was thrown across the room until I collided into the wall. Again my ward flared, but it still held.

"Most impressive. I wonder how much force it will take to shatter your little cocoon. Let's find out, shall we?"

She gestured, and the bars her cage were torn free, their ends aiming rather uncomfortably at my mid-section.

"Let's not, Cherie! You mess with one of my friends and you pay the price!"

Gambit leaped out of the ward I had placed on the X-Men and threw a deck full of cards into Blythe's face. They exploded with enough force to cause her to cover her face.

The bars dropped down.

Rogue flew out of the ward as well and slammed into Blythe, knocking her into the wall opposite mine. "Now y'all need to calm down! Those are mah boys you're knocking around and Ah don't appreciate it!"

Hank also leaped out of the ward … which made me wonder why I bothered to cast it in the first place. He looked up at me. "How are you, Kyle?"

I shrugged. "Oh fine. Just hanging around …"

And at that moment Blythe's hold on me faltered and I fell … right into Hank's arms.

"Ah, the young people who normally fall into my arms happen to be of the female gender, Kyle." He gently sat me back on my feet.

"Thanks, Hank. How's the Wicked Mutant of the Future doing?"

Rogue walked over, carrying the limp body of Blythe and tossed her onto the deck.. "Ah think she's down for the count."

Metalyx and Iron Horse had also been freed. The giant robot walked over with the dog's head helmet that he had used on her before. "This will put her back under control."

"No." Metalyx limped over, her cybernetic blade extended and so sharp that the edge seemed to shine. "She's too powerful, too dangerous. We have to destroy her now."

"Destroy her and we never return home," Iron Horse reminded her.

"Go home to a dying world? No! I'd rather stay here anyway—and even if this were hell and our world a paradise I would _still_ give it up to kill _her!_ She killed my husband! She killed my children! She dies—now!"

And Metalyx thrust down with her blade …

But it didn't connect. Blythe, her eyes open and glowing, looked up at Metalyx. "Too late, Metalyx. As usual."

The blade flew up and away from Blythe and embedded itself in Metalyx's head.

"No!" Iron Horse screamed.

"As for you, my dear Anthony, I think a worse fate than death would be to send you back to your future … without Rogue … without me. Without the power you need to save a world that deserves to die. Farewell, my once-love."

"Blythe! No! No!"

And the Iron Horse faded away in a shimmer of light.

Rogue, Remy, Hank, and I were suddenly hovering in mid-air again.

"You made a good effort, X-Men, but it was too little, too late. Metalyx, was right. I am a killer. And you know what? I _like_ it. _This_ is what I was meant to do. I am become Shiva … the Destroyer of Worlds. And your world … your world is next."

I stared into her eyes … her glowing, madness filled eyes, and knew what I had to do.

Even the Lady agreed with me. I could hear her in the back of my mind. _Yes, Kyle. She is too dangerous to our plans. End this now. You have the power. _

"Blythe?"

"You have last words, sorcerer?"

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for fighting me? For resisting? It's far too late for that."

"No. For this. Demons of Denak!"

A gaping hole opened up beneath her … a Pit filled with fire, smoke, and the screams of the damned.

"Whatever you do, don't look into the Pit," I told the X-Men.

But I looked.

The X-Men didn't see what grabbed hold of Blythe, but I did. It's a memory that will haunt me all the days of my life. I still have nightmares about it.

Blythe screamed. She raged. She fought with all her power…

But it wasn't enough.

Even I couldn't save her from what I had unleashed.

She screamed as the Things I had called took hold of her. She screamed as she was pulled down … down into darkness … down into the Pit.

She was still screaming as the Pit.

And she screams even now. I hear her in my dreams.

"Kyle," Rogue whispered. "What did you do?"

I had no words for what I had done.

"Oh my stars and garters," Hank whispered. "Blythe was powering the Helicarrier. Without her, it has no power. Without power we'll …"

Hank didn't have to finish. We all knew what he meant. We could all feel it … the sudden lurching, as though we were in a rapidly descending elevator or rollercoaster …

The Helicarrier was falling …


End file.
